Of Shirts, Shoulders, and Shooting Trees
by SabbyStarlight
Summary: Jack was seriously beginning to hate the missions that his superiors deemed easy. Those ones always seemed to go really wrong, really fast. This time was no different. Or: Shameless Mac whump with a side of protective Jack


**Hey y'all! Now that the semester is finally winding down and I can get a free moment, I can finally get around to posting some more fics. I have three more sitting in a "Works in Progress" folder just waiting to be finished or edited and then they can be posted too!**

Jack was seriously beginning to hate the missions that his superiors deemed easy. Those ones always seemed to go really wrong, really fast. This time was no different. This one was supposed to be beyond easy, a "piece of cake, so simple even Jack can't screw it up" as Matty had called it. Some bad guy, whose name Jack hadn't bothered to remember, had been selling black-market weapons somewhere in the Rocky Mountains. Local FBI had taken him down two days ago and he was safely tucked away in a federal prison.

All Mac and Jack had to do was find his hidden stash of guns, ammo, and enough ready-to-kill machinery to arm a small militia, and report the location to Matty. The end. They had joked on the way there about how nice it was for them to be given an all expenses paid camping trip, complete with scenic hike. Jack knew though, as soon as his phone rang and he heard his partner's voice on the other end asking which he wanted first, the good news or the bad, that they had once again overestimated the simplicity of their mission.

"Good news first, if you actually have any." Jack sighed, not failing to pick up on the odd tone of Mac's voice but writing it off as (hopefully) static from a bad cell reception.

"I found the stash." Mac answered.

"That's awesome!" Jack exclaimed, putting his phone on speaker so he could bring up his GPS map and find Mac's coordinates. "Mission accomplished, man. I'll head your way now." His momentary high of another job done crashed as he heard Mac take in a suspiciously pained breath. "Wait, what's the bad news?"

"Ya know how this guy was an arms dealer?" Mac asked.

"Yeah…" Jack replied, not liking where this conversation was headed.

"Well he was apparently pretty protective of his stock." Mac continued. "He had a, um, pretty foolproof security system."

"Mac you're not soundin' too good, pal. Talk to me, what's wrong?" Jack ordered as he picked up his pace, heading towards the younger man.

"He had it rigged. Boobytrapped." Mac explained, the pain in his voice becoming more prominent as he spoke. "I missed the tripwire he had hooked up to a shotgun in a tree."

Jack cursed under his breath, fearing he already knew the answer to the question he was about to ask. "You hit?"

"I'm hit." Mac admitted.

A million worst case scenarios flashed through Jack's mind as he glanced down at his GPS map, ignoring the tree branches that slapped at his face and the briar vines that got snagged in his jeans as he sped up to a jog, needing to get to Mac as soon as he could. "Where?"

"Shoulder." Mac replied, his voice thin and sounding even younger than Jack remembered it sounding when he met the kid years ago back in the desert.

Jack breathed a silent sigh of relief and refocused his priorities. He wasn't going to lose Mac from a shoulder shot, at least not in the short amount of time it was going to take Jack to get to him. But he would bleed out a lot faster if he didn't stay calm. "Alright, that's good. Shoulder's good." Jack soothed. "If ya had to be hit, shoulder's the place for it, am I right?"

"Hurts." Mac answered. "Bad."

"Yeah, well lettin' a bullet rip through ya will do that." Jack joked, trying to hide the worry in his own voice. "You just stay put, and I'll be there before you know it."

"On your way?" Mac asked, and the hopefulness in his voice broke Jack's heart a little.

"Yeah, I'm headed right towards ya." Jack promised. "Listen, I'm gonna hang up for just a second, alright? Call Matty, tell her to send some medics with our exfil team and have 'em meet us at your coordinates. Keep the phone in your hand, I'll call you right back."

Not even two minutes later Jack was back on the line with Mac. "Alright, Matty's sendin' a team out now. Not sure how long it'll take, she'll call me when they're close." He paused at Mac's silence. "How you holdin' up?"

"Been better." Mac admitted.

"Yeah, I bet." Jack agreed. "I'm almost there." He was met with silence on the other end of the call. "Hey. Don't you hang up now, you hear me? You stay on the line. Keep talkin' to me."

Jack did most of the talking himself in the ten more minutes it took him to reach his partner, Mac only chiming in with a quiet "yeah" or "still here" whenever Jack would interrupt his pointless rambling to check. That didn't matter though. The phone call kept Mac conscious until Jack could be there to do it in person.

"Alright buddy, I see ya so I'm hanging up now." Jack declared as his jog turned into a full-on sprint that ended with him throwing his pack down and dropping to his knees beside Mac. "Fancy seein' you out here." Jack joked as he carefully took Mac's cell phone from the younger man's hand and hung up, ignoring the bloody fingerprints that marred the screen.

"Oh you know, I just thought it would be fun to come out here, bleed all over the woods." Mac replied, the words were there but the tone of his usual dry wit was masked by pain.

The joke eased Jack's mind a little though, as he found himself trying to hide a smile as he moved Mac's hand and began to carefully peel back the wadded-up flannel shirt Mac had haphazardously pressed against the wound. "Fun times. But next time, let's wait on adult supervision before you decide to do that." Jack sighed as he finally got through the fabric and was able to see the bullet hole. Mac bit back a hiss as cool air was exposed to the still-bleeding wound.

"Sorry." Jack said automatically. "Sorry, but I gotta get a look at it."

Mac closed his eyes, fully trusting his partner to take care of him.

"It a through-n-through?" Jack asked hopefully.

Mac's pain filled blue eyes opened again and met Jack's worried brown as he answered. "Think it caught my collar bone."

Several choice words swam through Jack's mind but he didn't let any slip. Mac was smart, even hurting the kid had to know how much worse that made this situation, he didn't need Jack reminding him. "Well, at least we only have one bullet hole to worry about, not two." Jack said, reaching out and giving Mac's wrist a gentle squeeze.

"Since when are you such an optimist?" Mac teased.

"Apparently since you decided to go off and let yourself get shot by a damn tree." Jack joked back. His voice turned serious again as he asked softly, "Collar bone, you think it's broken, or is the bullet just lodged in it?"

"Don't know. Hurts like hell though." Mac answered.

"Gonna let me check it out?" Jack asked.

Mac huffed out what was almost a laugh. "You really giving me a choice?"

"Nope, not at all. Just tryin' to be polite." Jack admitted. "You have any personal attachment to this here shirt?" He asked, tugging at the collar of the grey t-shirt Mac had on.

"I mean, I'll have the scar to keep as a souvenir." Mac answered with what was probably intended as a wry grin but came across as more of a grimace. "I don't need the shirt with the bullet hole in it too."

"Good, makes my job easier." Jack said as he got a firmer grip on the shirt and ripped it diagonally down the front, giving him better access to the injured shoulder.

"Wanna roll over a bit or do you think you can sit up?" Jack asked.

"Not sitting up unless you want a reappearance of the trail mix I had for lunch." Mac replied.

"No thanks, that stuff was disgusting to begin with." Jack smiled a sympathetic grin. "Roll over then, let me get a look at the back of your shoulder, make sure there's not an exit wound."

"I already told you there isn't." Mac grunted as he twisted sideways, lifting his injured side off the ground enough for Jack to see.

"Just for a second." Jack promised, knowing that any movement was going to increase the bleeding and if Mac was right and the bullet had hit his collarbone, any shifting would be not only incredibly painful, but dangerous as well.

"Damn it, Jack hurry up." Mac groaned.

Jack quickly pulled the remains of Mac's shirt away from his sweat soaked skin, gun calloused hand skimming lightly over the unmarred shoulder blade. "Alright, you win this one." He announced, gently placing another hand on his partner's chest and helping him lay down slowly.

"Yeah," Mac panted, eyes tightly squeezed shut against the pain. "I feel like a real winner right now."

"I'm sorry, pal." Jack said softly, reaching out and resting what he hoped was a comforting hand on Mac's arm. "Let me finish checking you over and then you can rest while we wait on exfil, alright?"

Mac nodded in response and then instantly regretted it, face twisting up in a wince. "Note to self: don't move neck."

"Yeah try to keep your head still." Jack said, free hand hovering over Mac's chest. "Don't hate me too much for this next part, okay?" Jack asked.

Before Mac could prepare himself for what was about to come, Jack had one hand firmly on Mac's chest, keeping him still and the other tracing light but steady pressure slowly along his partner's collar bone. He was almost finished when he felt the bone give under his fingers, his fingers stopped immediately, not wanting to hurt his friend any more than necessary, but that didn't keep a pained yelp from escaping Mac's lips, his body involuntarily trying to jerk away from Jack.

"Shhh, shhh, I'm sorry." Jack's apologized. "I'm sorry, bud. I had to see how bad it was broken. Just try to breath through it, alright? Nice and slow." It took a few minutes and Jack was pretty sure that Mac wasn't even aware of the vise-like grip he had latched around Jack's wrist, but eventually the pain faded from unbearable to just plain miserable and Mac opened his eyes again.

"That. Sucked." He panted as his fingers slowly released themselves from the indentions they had formed in Jack's shirt sleeve.

"Sorry." Jack said again. That was what he hated most about dealing with injuries in the field. He couldn't stand that he had to hurt the people he cared about, the people he was supposed to protect, in order to help them. "It's definitely broken, kiddo."

"Guess that explains why it hurts so much." Mac replied.

"Yeah." Jack nodded in agreement. "I'm gonna find another shirt, hopefully a clean one, to use as a bandage since you had to go and bleed through the first one." He teased as he began digging through his pack, trying to keep up his share of their typical banter, giving Mac a sense of normalcy and something other than the pain to focus on.

Both men jumped as Jack's search for a clean shirt was interrupted by his cell phone ringing. He answered it and hit the speaker button, setting the phone down beside him so he could continue his search.

"Matty. How far away is that exfil team? We need to get off this mountain."

"There's the problem, Jack. Exfil can't get up the mountain. They were expecting you both to be able to hike back down." Matty explained.

"Well Mac's not goin' anywhere in this shape, especially not climbing down this damn hillside. So figure somethin' out. Improvise. That's kinda this team's motto incase you hadn't picked up on that." He snapped back.

"Jack. Calm down." Riley said and Jack automatically paused. He hadn't realized that she was in the room and it something very similar to fatherly instincts kicked in and told him not to make her worry any more than she obviously already was. He grabbed the phone and took it off speaker.

"Riles, he's hurt. Pretty bad this time." Jack said. "He needs to get to a hospital, now."

"We realize that, Jack." Matty's voice came back on the line. "And if you would calm down for a minute and let me finish, you would know that a two person medical team is working their way up to your coordinates as we speak. They are going to get MacGyver stabilized and back down the mountain, to the waiting exfil helicopter, and to the nearest hospital."

"How long?" Jack asked, grateful that they had a plan, but not liking the part where he was stuck in the forest with a hurting, bleeding, partner, unable to do anything to help.

"Under an hour." Riley replied, then softer, "Do you think he'll be okay until then?"

"Him not being isn't an option." Jack replied.

"Bring our boy home, Dalton." Maddy said, rejoining the conversation.

"You know I will. That's why you pay me the big bucks." Jack reminded her, joking more for Riley's sake than anything.

"The medical team should be there soon, try not to shoot them." Maddy ordered. "One bullet wound per mission is all I allow you two."

"Yes ma'am." Jack agreed before hanging up the phone and turning back to his partner.

"You doin' alright?" He asked.

"I'll be better once I'm off this mountain." Mac admitted.

"Under an hour." Jack assured. "I know that don't sound too great," he backpedaled, seeing the look of defeat on Mac's face. "But they'll be here before you know it."

"Here we go." He announced, changing the subject and finally pulling a clean (by Jack Dalton standards) shirt from the bottom of his pack. "Let's see if we can keep the rest of that blood inside you, huh?" He tugged his belt off before kneeling down close to Mac's shoulder. "This part's…"

"Gonna suck." Mac interrupted his warning. The blonde man winced as Jack pressed the now balled up shirt against his shoulder.

"Sorry in advance." Jack apologized before taking a deep breath himself and quickly slipping his belt around the shirt, pulling it tight, ignoring the pained whimper that escaped Mac's tightly closed lips.

Jack gave Mac a few seconds to regain his composure before the shudders he had begun noticing wracking the younger man's slight frame took top priority. He reached out and brushed a sweaty piece of hair off Mac's forehead. "You cold or just hurtin'?" He asked.

"Little of both." Mac admitted, cracking open his eyes again.

"Six of one, half a dozen of the other." Jack joked. "Not much I can do about the pain, but here." Jack said automatically, pulling back the hand that he hadn't realized was still resting softly on the younger man's forehead and slipping out of his own flannel shirt. "Not the cleanest, but it'll keep you warm." He assured as he quickly covered Mac's bare arms.

"Thanks." Mac said softly, his tense body slightly relaxing into the shirt, still warm from his partner's body heat and smelling like Jack. Like leather, gunpowder, safety, and home.

"Hey, stay awake now." Jack warned, reaching for the canteen he had strapped to his pack. "Drink some of this." He twisted the cap off and tipped a small amount of water into Mac's mouth. "You gotta stay hydrated, don't want you going into shock on me."

"Tired." Mac said, fighting the pull of his eyes closing again.

"Sorry, pal. No sleep for you yet." Jack ordered, reaching a hand under the shirt covering Mac's arms and wrapping his hand around his partner's wrist, feeling the erratically beating, slightly thready pulse beneath the surface. "You have to stay awake to tell the nice medic people how you got shot by a damn tree."

"I'm never gonna hear the end of this one, am I?" Mac asked cracking a weak smile.

"Nope." Jack agreed. "But I'll make sure nobody gives you a hard time about it until we aren't at a risk of losing you from it." He was about to continue his teasing, knowing that at least that would keep Mac awake, when he heard a sound coming from his left.

Jack quickly drew his gun and stood up, guarding Mac instinctively before he heard a voice calling out his name. "Agent Dalton? Hold fire, Director Webber sent us."

Jack smiled, lowering his weapon and kneeling back down beside Mac. "You hear that, buddy? Calvary's here."

Fearful blue eyes looked up at Jack as Mac's fingers found their way to Jack's wrist once again, holding tight. "You're staying though, right?"

"Of course." He assured, reaching out and removing Mac's hand from his arm and instead enveloping it in his own hand. "Where you go, I go, brother."

Luckily for Mac, the medical team came prepared with pain medication which they promptly gave the young agent before reexamining his shoulder, declaring that Jack had been correct, the bullet appeared to have shattered his collarbone. Mac was unconscious before they even had him loaded onto the portable stretcher. Jack walking beside his partner the entire hike back down.

Six hours later Jack found himself sitting in the hospital waiting room. Mac had been in surgery for a little over four hours but, as the nurses that he kept pestering with questions kept informing him, apparently repairing a busted collarbone took some time. He just wanted to see his partner, to see that Mac was going to be alright with his own eyes. He was going crazy sitting there, calling Riley every hour only to say that he didn't have any news yet, staring at his partner's blood that remained under his fingernails no matter how many trips he made to the bathroom sink.

He wasn't even aware that he had fallen asleep, chin resting against his chest, phone clutched in hand, until a nurse startled him awake with a hand on his shoulder. "Not the best move, lady." He said, pulling his free hand back from where it had automatically headed towards his holster. "Mac. Is he okay?" He asked, refocusing his priorities.

"Sorry to wake you but I have a rather odd question Mr. Dalton." She answered.

"My partner. Is. He. Okay." Jack repeated.

"Mr. MacGyver made it through surgery just fine." She assured him, watching the tension immediately drain from Jack's shoulders. "He's not in a room yet, though." She continued. "I can't let you back with him until then."

"Well when will that be?" Jack asked. "If I'm not there when he wakes up he's gonna flip out, trust me. Been there, done that."

"That may answer my original question, then." She answered. "When he was brought in he had a shirt with him, an obviously well worn flannel thing."

Jack's mind flashed back to the forest, him taking off his outer shirt and covering his partner with it. "Yeah, that was mine. I don't want it back or anything, if that's what you're askin'. Just toss it in the trash."

"See now you probably don't want me to do that." She continued. "Your friend has gone through a severe trauma, we haven't placed him in a recovery room yet because we can't seem to keep his pulse stabilized. The only thing we can do that seems to help, believe it or not, is keep that shirt near him. He calms down almost immediately."

Jack couldn't help but smile. "Trust me on this one, let me go sit with him. I know it goes against protocol, or whatever, but it'll work."

"I know you are just trying to help," she began. "But we really do need to clear this with a family member before we go against hospital policy."

"Fine. Who would you like to call?" Jack asked, quickly losing patience. "His dead mom? His grandfather, also gone? Or the father who hasn't had the decency to check in on the kid since he was twelve? If you're lookin' for his family, lady, I'm right here." He finished, not caring about the other people in the waiting room who were now staring at him.

The nurse sighed, looking around the room for any form of backup and realizing she was fighting a losing battle, gave in. "Come with me."

When Jack finally made it into the post-surgery holding room he found Mac, looking way younger than his twenty six years, pale against the hospital bed sheets, with Jack's shirt draped across the arm that wasn't in a dark blue sling.

The nurse walked softly across the room and gently removed the shirt and as if on cue, the many monitors Mac was still hooked up to began to sound, his pulse and blood pressure rising, oxygen levels dropping. Jack stepped forward and gently wrapped his hand around Mac's careful not to disrupt any of the tubes and wires. "Hey. Mac. It's okay, pal." He said softly, reaching behind him and pulling a chair closer to the bed. "You're fine. I didn't leave, you can't get rid of me that easy."

He shot the nurse a proud smile as Mac's vitals instantly returned to normal. "You can throw that thing away." He said, nodding toward the dirty shirt she was still holding. "He don't need it now, I'm not goin' anywhere."

 **Man, does it feel good to get back to writing something other than term papers. I have missed hurting these boys. I have read several different theories about Mac's age, and after some thought and rewatching several episodes, I added it up to be 25-26. I won't bore everybody with how I came to that (If you're curious or want to debate it please message me, I'll never turn down an opportunity to talk MacGyver). Anyway, as always, hope you enjoyed, and feel free to drop a review!**


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